


Short-Term Employment

by Shirobitch



Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, HE LIKES TO WATCH, Ice Cream, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, TRIP DOESN'T FUCK, VIRUS BASICALLY DOES WHAT HE WANTS, like always
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 12:08:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3133919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shirobitch/pseuds/Shirobitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aoba attempts to be a good employee and things go horribly wrong. He can thank Virus and Trip for getting him canned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Short-Term Employment

They approach the ice-cream stand as one entity instead of two separate people, strutting like proud businessmen instead of the mangy mutts they truly are. One grins, the other smiles—they’ve come to stir the pot a little.

He doesn’t see them coming, nor does he realize what he’s gotten himself into before it’s too late. When blonde hair comes into his sight, he yelps and clutches at his chest as if though he’s just had a miniature heart attack. “Virus? Trip? What are you two doing here?” The question sounds so simple, but he’s actually confused. He hasn’t seen them in weeks.

Looks are exchanged between the faux twins, but finally the smaller of the two of them speaks up, pretending to be the innocent angel that he isn’t. “Ah, Aoba-san, you don’t sound too happy to see us. Is this a bad time? Trip was in the mood for something sweet, so we thought we’d stop by and offer your new job some business.” He motions to Trip with a flick of his wrist, motions again to the _precious_ little stand, then smiles like a viper preparing to strike its prey. “Can we come in and sample some flavors?”

Aoba has literally only had this job for two hours, has been specifically told to keep customers outside of the stand at all times, and just _knows_ that anything involving Virus and Trip won’t mean good news—but he lets them inside anyway. “I guess so. I doubt it’ll hurt.” He mumbles, though he’s sure to regret those words later.

He makes small talk while he pulls out several tubs of ice-cream, though that mostly consists of _him_ chattering away and maybe Virus commenting on something he says blandly. Trip never says much, but he’s such an intimidating force that Aoba is somewhat grateful he keeps his mouth shut.

Virus hates sweets, so he only offers Trip the little spoons filled with some of their most popular flavors. The broader blonde appears to enjoy them, but Aoba can only vaguely tell. He wants to crack a joke and suggest that they pick something and go, but by the way Trip sucks on the final spoon and Virus’ eyes glint despite the dim lighting, he knows he’s gotten himself into some serious trouble.

Everything happens so fast that he doesn’t have time to defend himself. One arm snakes around his waist to lock him in place, while long fingers firmly grip his chin to tilt his head all the way back. Icy blue eyes stare down at him, but he tries his best to glare so he won’t appear weak to the ringleader. There are questions bubbling up inside of him, but it’s futile to ask them, so he simply chooses to say nothing. It’s pointless.

Virus wants to laugh at the fact that Aoba gives up so easily, but in a way he finds it endearing. Aoba is much smarter than he ever thought. There’s a fire that burns in those golden eyes, one that rages and licks at the corners as if threatening to spread, but Virus isn’t concerned, so it doesn’t show on his stoic face. “You seem to have quite a bit you want to ask us, but it’s better that you don’t. Everything will be revealed in due time.” That’s a blatant lie, but Aoba doesn’t have to be made aware that it is.

Since the brain of this little operation knows exactly what he wants, he has his partner bind Aoba’s arms and legs before tossing him onto the floor like trash, but oh, he’s so much more than trash, and Virus can’t wait to take a bite out of him. The brawn can sense how restless the other is, so he casually tips one of the tubs of ice-cream over with the heel of his boot, kicking it so that chunks of strawberry goodness come tumbling out. It’s not _his_ favorite flavor, but it’s one of the few that Virus can stomach. Trip is always thinking of ways to please Virus. 

The sneaky snake doesn’t thank his counterpart for being so thoughtful, because quite frankly, it’s only natural that Trip does exactly what he wants. The ice-cream begins to melt almost instantly, staining Aoba’s ridiculous looking outfit. Why did the owners want him parading around in something so silly? No wonder business was slow.

The clothing is restricting, so Virus has Trip strip the boy until he’s completely nude and vulnerable. Surprisingly, despite the fact that Aoba was forced into the current situation, he doesn’t say a word against them or even resist. It leads Virus to believe that he’s wanted something like this to happen. This makes things even more interesting.

Trip lazily dips his hand inside of the melted tub of ice-cream as he squats beside Aoba’s body, using the tips of his fingers to paint messy designs all over the boy’s face, chest, and thighs. Virus hates messy things, but Trip knows how long he’s had to wait for an opportunity like this. He glances over out of curiosity, wanting to see the look on his partner’s face—it isn’t disappointing. He’s staring, absolutely transfixed by the sight of Aoba helpless and sticky. Trip _needs_ to see his partner fuck the boy, immediately.

Virus adjusts his glasses as he plasters a smile onto his smarmy little face, purposely taking his sweet time removing his tie, jacket, undershirt, trousers, and boxers. ”Aoba-san, I do hope you won’t be cross with us after all of this is over. I mean, we are still your biggest fans.” Aoba tries to look away throughout the entire process, tries to pretend he doesn’t care, but it’s obvious by the way he squeezes his thighs shut that he’s becoming aroused. This makes Virus even more smug than usual.

He starts off slow, caressing the boy’s long limbs and marking him all over with crescent moon shaped wounds. Aoba sighs and winces at first, hating the fact that there’s no affection and everything seems so methodical, but eventually warms up when pale hands slap his inner thighs. A yelp escapes him, but he’s even more disgusted by the fact that his body reacts positively. “Virus…keep going…” Did he really say that? Why did he say that? Virus continues the assault for another moment, then gets bored and eyes his partner. Wordlessly, he commands the younger male to join him—and he does.

Trip unleashes the rest of the tubs of ice-cream once they’re entirely melted, gathering up large scoops with both hands and dumping them on the helpless Aoba. The boy reacts by shuddering, words of venom oozing from his mouth, “I don’t like this. I can’t believe the two of you are doing this to me.” But honestly, neither Trip nor Virus care.

Trip is like a kid in a candy shop, getting to sample delicious treats and take home the best one there. He watches silently as Virus casually dips his fingers in a pool of the melted strawberry ice-cream and begins smearing the creamy treat all over Aoba’s entrance. The boy gasps, stutters words of protest that he doesn’t really mean, “H-hey. Cut that out.” Virus finds it amusing, but barely acknowledges the pleas as he easily slides two fingers inside. The substance clings to the warmth, and Aoba moans despite the fact that he feels like garbage.

Virus works the boy for a little while, curling his fingers and thrusting them without warning, only doing it for his own enjoyment, and certainly not for Aoba’s benefit. Once he grows tired of the little gasps and the writhing, he plunges into the boy’s willing body, sheathing himself entirely and thoroughly enjoying the way his erection throbs. He’s been waiting for this moment for a _very_ long time.

Virus starts up a slow and steady pace, purposely studying Aoba’s face because he wants to see every moment of pain and pleasure. Everything about Aoba thrills him; he’s obsessed. The more Aoba pants and moans, the more he wants to see him unravel. He wants to be the one to break him.

Trip lazily drags his tongue here and there as he cranes his head, lapping up stray ice-cream streaks and sampling Aoba’s skin with an open mouth. It’s obvious that Virus is getting more out of this than he is, so he decides to keep himself preoccupied while he lets his partner have his fun. There’s no point in trying to stand between Virus and what he wants.

Virus only cares about Aoba; nothing else matters. Quiet groans escape him as he mercilessly slams their hips together; appreciating the way Aoba tosses his head to the side and cries like this is the only thing he’s ever wanted. His cheeks are flushed, he’s drooling all over himself; it’s adorable. He wants to see even more of those precious expressions someday.

It’s all too soon when Virus reaches his orgasm, shooting his seed into the willing body beneath him. He’s exhausted physically, but Aoba seems to have reached his emotional limit. Without saying a word to Trip or Aoba, he pulls out, cleans himself with a few tissues, and dresses himself before exiting the stand. Though Trip had wanted to stay and play a while longer, he merely undoes Aoba’s bindings, offers him a sickening grin, and says the last thing Aoba ever wanted to hear as he makes his exit.

“Bye-Bye, Aoba. See you soon.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've been in the DRAMAtical Murder fandom for such a long time and am ashamed to say that this is the first time I've written a proper fic. PLEASE FORGIVE ME, FANDOM! I don't know why I decided to go with Vitriao for my first fic, but I just got this idea stuck in my head and well...this is what spewed out. Hope you all enjoyed!~ Feel free to leave your thoughts and opinions, it would be MUCH appreciated! <3333


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